


We're Here Tonight, and That's Enough

by Eicartgeorge



Series: 25 Days of Stydia Christmas [18]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison is an angel, Angels, Christmas, Christmas Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 15:12:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13056561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eicartgeorge/pseuds/Eicartgeorge
Summary: "Stiles sat in the chapel of the hospital.He didn't know why he'd come. What good would praying do now? She was gone.Lydia was dead."*Based on the movie "Three Days"Title comes from "Wonderful Christmastime"





	We're Here Tonight, and That's Enough

Stiles sat in the chapel of the hospital.

 

He didn't know why he'd come. What good would praying do now? She was gone.

 

Lydia was dead.

 

“Stiles,” Scott said slowly. “Your doctor was looking for you. He said you may have a concussion.”

 

“It doesn't matter,” he replied with a tremor in his voice. “Nothing fucking matters.”

 

Scott flinched slightly...”I know you're upset, but I really don't think you're supposed to swear in a chapel.”

 

Stiles finally turned to face the werewolf. “Do I look like I fucking care, Scott? My _wife_ is _dead._ ” His voice broke. “She's fucking gone. _Lydia_ is gone. Maybe if I fucking say it enough, God will fucking strike me down right fucking here and I won't fucking have to live through this fucking gut-wrenching pain I'm fucking feeling right fucking now! Come on, God!” Stiles looked to the ceiling. “What the fuck do I have to say for you to just fucking do it?! Just put me out of my fucking misery!”

 

“You don't mean that,” Scott said softly, part of him confident in the statement and part of him questioning if he really did. He was half-convinced his friend would never take such drastic measures, the other half needed convincing of that fact.

 

“What if I do, Scott?” He wasn't yelling anymore. In fact, he was speaking barely above a whisper. He looked away, as tears began to fall. “I didn't...I didn't get to say goodbye,” he sobbed. “I didn't tell her that I loved her.”

 

“She knows you love her.”

 

“Knew,” Stiles cynically corrected. “And yeah, but I could have told her again. I could have told her more.”

 

“Don't do this, man. You could have told her every moment of your entire relationship and you'd wish you'd said it faster. You can't change anything. You can only take comfort in the fact that she died knowing.”

 

“I can't _take comfort_ in anything, _because_ she's dead, Scott.” He gave a shaky sigh, and continued, “We had so many plans. We were...we were trying to have a baby.”

 

“I didn't...” Scott shook his head.

 

“We weren't telling anyone,” Stiles quickly let him know. “We'd been trying for awhile...things just weren't working out.”

 

The door to the chapel opened and other people began to come inside, patients and their families. Stiles looked up at Scott in confusion.

 

“It's Christmas Eve...they're having a midnight mass for the people here. I saw the sign on the door.”

 

“Oh,” he said as he looked around.

 

“Come on,” Scott urged. “Your doctor wanted to check you out again.”

 

“Actually...I just...I want to stay here..for a little while at least. I haven't been to Christmas Eve mass since my mom was alive.” Stiles stared straight ahead, avoiding Scott's gaze.

 

The werewolf sighed. “Okay. I'll let the doctor know.”

 

The mass was just about to start when Stiles felt a presence next to him.

 

“Scott, I said-” He turned his head to face his best friend, when he realized it wasn't Scott. “Holy fucking shit!”

 

“Stiles, language.” The brunette smiled.

 

“Allison? Wha-what...” Panicked, he looked around to see everyone in their seats frozen. “What's going on? How are you...I've got a concussion,” he finally assured himself. “I'm hallucinating. It's the only logical explanation.”

 

“You're not hallucinating.”

 

“Yeah? Well that's just what an hallucination would say, isn't it?”

 

“Stiles,” Allison tried again. “This is real.”

 

“Then...” he began after a moment. “Why are you here? I mean...no offense...but you're not the first person who's no longer alive that I would choose to see.”

 

Allison smiled sadly. “I know. I heard about Lydia.”

 

“Heard about her? From where?”

 

“Oh, you know. Angels talk.” Stiles gave her a look and she gasped, “Oh yeah! I'm an angel!” Then she held her arms out in a 'ta-da' pose.

 

“You're...an...”

 

“Angel. Yeah. It took some time, but I made it!”

 

“You're an angel of death...I'm dead..oh my fucking God! He did it. He struck me down. That bastard struck me down!”

 

“Okay, one, don't call God a bastard. Especially not in a chapel. And two, I'm not an angel of death, and three, you're not dead.”

 

“Then why are you here?”

 

“We wanted to give you chance to say goodbye.”

 

“What do you mean, what are you talking about?”

 

“Three days ago...what were you doing?”

 

Stiles thought back. “I don't know. I can't remember.”

 

“Well, then make it memorable.”

 

“What?”

 

“When you wake up tomorrow, it'll be December 21st. Lydia will be alive. You'll get a do-over. You'll get to say goodbye.”

 

“Three days isn't enough,” Stiles argued.

 

“It's all I can give you. Take it or leave it.”

 

Stiles thought for a moment. “Do I have to decide right now?”

 

Allison smiled knowingly. “I think you already did.”

 

* * *

 

_Stiles was in the passenger's seat of Lydia's car while she drove._

 

“ _I doubt we're going to find an open store tonight. It's Christmas Eve. You should have made sure you had all of the ingredients yesterday,” Stiles told her._

 

“ _I thought I did,” she replied. “I'm just missing a couple of spices.”_

 

“ _We're going to have to drive all the way to Hill Valley to find a Wal-Mart, and I don't even know if they're going to be open.”_

 

“ _Well, this will be a fun Christmas Eve story to tell the-” Headlights shone brightly out of the driver's side window._

 

 

Stiles sat up in bed, gasping.

 

“Stiles?” he heard a mumble next to him. He looked over to see Lydia, groggily sitting up. One hand went to his back to rub soothing circles and Stiles gaped at her. “Are you okay?”

 

“You're alive!”

 

“It must have been a bad dream,” she told him.

 

“Oh God!” He grabbed her face and kissed her forcefully. When he pulled back, she was blinking away the shock.

 

“Well...that's one way to wake up.”

 

Stiles sighed in relief. “You have no idea.”

 

Lydia giggled. “I'm going to run to the bathroom.”

 

Lydia walked away and Stiles fell back onto the bed, releasing a deep breath. “It was just a bad dream.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

Stiles jumped and looked next to the window to see Allison standing there.

 

“What the fuck?”

 

“I'm just here to remind you to make the most of your time with her.”

 

“You mean...I wasn't dreaming. That really happened and this really is a farewell tour?”

 

Allison nodded. “Yes. And on Christmas Eve, she's still going to die.”

 

“Can't I stop it?”

 

“Who are you talking to?”

 

Stiles whipped his head back to Lydia and then looked back to the window. Allison was gone.

 

“Uh...no one...just...myself,” he replied, then had an idea. “Hey! How about you climb back into bed. And I'll make us breakfast.”

 

“Breakfast in bed? What's the occasion?”

 

“Nothing...I just want to show you how much I love you.”

 

“Alright..”she said slightly suspicious, but still crawled back onto the bed.

 

* * *

 

Stiles made her ham and cheese omelets, and the two of them ate in the bed and spent the morning lazing around. Every time he looked at her he was hit with this overwhelming sadness. His mind would flash back to her bruised and bloodied face lying on a hospital bed before being covered by a sheet. A pit of dread settled in his stomach. This must be what being a banshee feels like. Knowing someone is going to die...maybe even how...and having no way to stop it. He didn't envy Lydia.

 

He took her to dinner later that night and they talked about what they would do in the days leading up to Christmas. Stiles wanted to take Lydia somewhere else, but she had work obligations.

 

Lydia had an early meeting the next morning and Stiles woke up before she did.

 

When he got home, Allison was in his kitchen sitting on the counter.

 

“You seem chipper.”

 

“I am, because I figured out how to fix this.”

 

“Oh yeah?” She crossed her arms. “And how's that?”

 

He opened the bags he was carrying. “I just bought the spices she was missing on Christmas Eve. Now,” he began as he put them away, “she won't have a reason to leave the house, therefore, the accident won't happen.”

 

Allison smiled sadly. “It doesn't work that way Stiles. She's going to get into the car on Christmas Eve. No matter what you do to try and stop it. Don't spend this time trying to save her. Spend it telling her goodbye.”

 

The front door opened and Lydia walked in.

 

“Lydia!”

 

The strawberry-blonde jumped. “Jesus, Stiles!”

 

“Sorry.” He reached into another bag and pulled out a bouquet. “I brought you flowers.”

 

“Awe! Thank you!” She took them from him and sniffed them. “They smell amazing. Let me put them in water.”

 

Stiles spent the rest of that day not feeling as happy as he had that morning. Part of him still believed he could keep Lydia away from the car on Christmas Eve, but the other part of him was heeding Allison's warning.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Stiles rolled over on his side to face Lydia. She was already facing him and her eyes opened slowly.

 

He leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and met her lips with his. His free hand roamed her body, while her nails scratched his back lightly. There was nothing frantic about their movements that morning, and with each lazy thrust he kissed her slow and sweet.

 

“Do you think that was it?” he asked softly, as she rested her head on his chest. It was habit, after years of trying to conceive, their pillow talk always consisted of wondering if that was the time it happened.

 

Lydia's normal response was, “Maybe. I hope so.”

 

But today, it was “No.”

 

He looked down at her face and she looked up at him.

 

“What?”

 

“It can't be.”

 

“Why not?”

 

She bit her lip before replying, “Because I'm already pregnant.”

 

Stiles blinked once. Twice. “What?”

 

Lydia sat up, and Stiles followed. He could feel a lump in his throat and his eyes began to water.

 

“My meeting yesterday was a doctor's appointment. I was going to wait until Christmas to tell you, but now just seemed like a perfect time.” She was smiling and Stiles was blinking back tears when he kissed her. He was happy, and then suddenly his heart was being ripped from his chest at the realization that not only would he lose his wife, but he'd lose his child too. A child that they'd wished for so badly. And that was when he made up his mind. “Hey..” Lydia said slowly. “Those are happy tears, right?”

 

“No..yeah...” Stiles nodded. “They're happy tears... I'm really happy.” He cleared his throat and stood up, “I'm going to go get some water. Do you need anything?”

 

She shook her head and laid back down. “I'm fine. I'm just going to lay here until you get back.”

 

* * *

 

Stiles walked into the kitchen and leaned over the sink.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

He whirled around to face Allison. “Lydia's pregnant.”

 

She nodded sadly. “I know. I heard.”

 

“You heard just now, or you heard before? When you sent me back, did you know?” Allison didn't reply, which was enough of an answer for Stiles. “You said I couldn't keep her from leaving. What would happen if I made the car hit me? What if I sacrificed myself somehow?”

 

“Then you'd die. You'd leave Lydia as not only a widow, but a single mother.”

 

“But at least they'd be alive.”

 

“You'd never see your daughter grow up.”

 

“D-daughter? It's a girl?”

 

Allison nodded. “And you would be choosing to leave her.”

 

“No, I'd be choosing to give her a life to begin with. There's not really a choice.”

 

* * *

 

Stiles was relaxing on the couch. It was Christmas Eve and he wasn't going to let Lydia leave the house. That was plan A at least...and plan A never worked.

 

“Oh shit!”

 

Stiles sat up and turned to face the kitchen. “Everything okay?”

 

Lydia appeared in the doorway slipping her shoes on. “We don't have any eggs.”

 

The omelets! He never replaced the eggs when he made the omelets. “Shit!” He stood up and looked around the room as if physically searching for an idea. He suddenly realized that it had come down to what he'd feared most. He brought his fist back and slammed it against the wall. “Fuck!”

 

“Stiles! Calm down. It's fine!”

 

“Don't go, Lydia,” he pleaded, tears beginning to fill his eyes.

 

“What's wrong?”

 

“Just don't go. Don't leave me.”

 

“I'm just going to the store. You can come with me.”

 

“I'll go!” he volunteered. “I'll just go by myself.”

 

“You always get the wrong eggs.”

 

“Then tell me the right ones! Please, I can do it!”

 

“I'm going.”

 

“Then at least let me drive,” he finally resolved. If he couldn't stop her from going, this was his last resort. It was what he decided the moment she told him she was pregnant. He was going to sacrifice himself.

 

“No, I'll drive. It's fine.”

 

“Stiles,” he heard Allison's voice. He turn to see her standing, watching them. “It's time.”

 

“No...” he shook his head.

 

“What?” Lydia asked.

 

Stiles turned back to his wife. “I said 'No.' Just let me drive.”

 

“Stiles, you're acting crazy.”

 

“Stiles,” Allison warned, and he finally snapped.

 

“Just give me the fucking keys, Lydia!”

 

Lydia froze for a moment. “Jesus. Fine. Here.” She tossed the keys to him and he breathed a sigh.

 

* * *

 

They climbed into the car and Stiles started it with shaking hands. So, this is what it was like to know you were going to die. Stiles couldn't say he enjoyed the feeling, but it wasn't like he was going to live to experience it all over again.

 

“I'm sorry I yelled,” he whispered once they were on the road.

 

“It's...it's fine...” Lydia seemed distracted.

 

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked her.

 

She shook her head. “No...something's wrong.”

 

“What is it? Is it the baby?”

 

“No...” she turned to look at him with tears in her eyes. “It's you.” She suddenly let out a sob. “Stiles, what did you do?”

 

Stiles took a beat before replying, “I love you so much, Lydia, and I already love our baby more than you can know.”

 

“What are you doing?” she sniffled.

 

“I'm saying goodbye.”

 

“You knew?”

 

“It was going to be you, Lydia. It _was_ you. I lived through it once and Allison gave me a second chance.”

 

“Allison?”

 

Stiles ignored her question. “I'm not going to let it happen twice.”

 

“What about me? Why wouldn't you tell me?”

 

“I'm sorry,” he laced her fingers with his and brought her hand up to kiss the back of it. “I love you, Lydia.”

 

She sniffled. “I love you too.”

 

He saw headlights out of the corner of his eye and he relaxed his body, content with the decision he was making. The last thing he heard was Lydia's scream.

 

* * *

 

_Beep_

 

 

_Beep_

 

 

_Beep_

 

 

Stiles's eyes fluttered open. He was surprised to find himself in a hospital bed. Wait.. if he was alive then... oh God! What if his plan had backfired?

 

“Stiles?” He let out a sigh of relief when he heard Lydia's voice, and then realized her hand was holding his.

 

“Hey,” he croaked. “Fancy meeting you here.”

 

She sniffled and shook her head. “You are in so much trouble. Do you hear me?” Stiles looked away, but then Lydia leaned forward, firmly planting her lips onto his.

 

When she pulled away, he asked, “Did you get checked out? Are you okay? Is the baby-”

 

“Everyone is fine.” she assured him. “You're lucky you're alive though, because if you weren't. I would have killed you.”

 

Stiles chuckled and saw a flash of brown hair over Lydia's shoulder.

 

Allison stood up from the chair, smiled, then walked toward the door and disappeared.

 

“I was prepared to die for you.” He turned back to her and looked her in the eye. “But, for what it's worth, I'm really glad I'm okay.”

 

“I'm really glad you're okay too.”

 

 


End file.
